


A Pitiful Champion.

by kraftworkorange



Category: Homestuck, petstuck - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mentionings of violence, Meowrails, Nightmares, Pet Abuse, Trolls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-29 14:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kraftworkorange/pseuds/kraftworkorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nepeta Leijon, a worker at a Pet Shelter, finds an abandoned ex-champion pettroll by the way home from work one day and has to make a difficult decision.</p>
<p>Let him go to a new home or take him in herself despite the potential problems. Hopefully it'll turn out fine. Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rescue.

Your name is Nepeta Leijon and you’ve just found a troll at the side of the road.

You’re driving home when you see him, the merest glimpse in your wing mirror. At first glance it’s just a bundle of rags and it takes a moment for you to process the hunched figure with his feet in the gutter, dark hair plastered to his skull by the relentless downpour. The lights turn green for your lane and your eyes turn back to the road as you accelerate forwards, trying to forget the image.

You fail miserably.

Within moments you’ve pulled over and clambered out, the hammering raindrops flattening your curls before you can unfurl your umbrella, boots thumping against the pavement as you walk towards him. Cases like this weren’t unusual and that made it so much worse, at least a couple trolls being dropped off at the shelter every week. Most got rehomed but not all of them. Not all of them. It hurts your chest to think about it and you have to push it away for now. This one must be cared for first.

The troll is approached carefully with plenty of warning of your presence as you angle the umbrella, making sure it shields him from the rain too as you crouch down. He barely moves except for the shivers running across his skin, the rags he’s dressed in doing nothing. Scars pattern his skin and it’s obvious that he hasn’t led the cushy life. You quietly clear your throat, his only acknowledgment of the sound being an ear twitch.

“Hi there! What are you doing out here all alone?”  
“…Waiting.”  
“Fur whom?”  
“Master. He said to wait here.”

Shit. Well this just complicated everything. A hand slides through your curls in order to brush them away from your face, brows pulling together as you think. It’s going to be difficult to move him away from here.

“Would you like to wait somewhere nice and dry fur while you wait fur him? We can leave a note on that post so he knows where to collect you from. Okay?”

The blueblood’s shoulders shift and it’s obvious that he’s contemplating it. Today is miserable and overcast, the sky smothered with dark grey clouds that pelt the ground with rain. And by the looks of it, he’s been here for quite some time already. No wonder he’s cracking. But rather than speaking, he simply nods and stands up and soon you’re both walking back to your little car having left a note pinned to the fence post nearby, denoting the address and number of the Shelter. The troll only comes to your hip, though he has the capacity to become much bigger, his size probably controlled through growth suppressants of some kind. Someone's owner was probably a big fan of the Betty Crocker Troll Chow™.

Surprisingly enough, he is very complacent as you buckle him into the backseat of your car and pull the straps tight, making sure that he’ll be safe. This car doesn’t have the cages in the back unlike the Shelter van which poses a slight problem but hopefully he won’t panic during the drive. Because if you remember the training correctly, bluebloods are incredibly strong and highly strung and you really can't afford any bills to have your car put back together.

You glance back at him as you drive along back to the Shelter, intending to keep him there for a few days to see if his owner did appear at some point. An unlikely prospect though. And after that … you’re not quite sure. The young troll looks steadily at the headrest in front of him, large hands folded in his lap over his shaved tail. His owners had left no fur on it except for a plume at the end, the hair a glossy blue-black, the same colour as the hair on his head. Your eyes skim over his horns, noting the fractured one on the right, probably from a punishment or an attack.  
Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.

You pull into your reserved space at the Shelter and make sure the umbrella is up this time before you slide out the car, gently guiding the troll with a hand on his back. The Shelter’s open most hours of the day and as always, the lights are blazing but it’s warm and dry in the building as you both step in, the troll’s shoulders dropping. You’d managed to coax a few words out of him on the way here, mainly his name. Equius Zahhak. He’d said it with pride and it was obviously the name of a winner. Former winner anyway. You shake your umbrella before dropping it into the stand by the door, pulling off your soggy hat too as you ruffle your curls, shucking the damp trench coat. These belongings go into your locker for the second time today and then you lead him through to where he can get tidied up and checked over.

Equius’ grey eyes flicker round as you walk through, looking at the various animals that rustle round busily in night-time preparations, the muscles in his jaw becoming stark as he restrains a yawn. …Perhaps the check-up can wait till tomorrow. For now, you can make him comfortable and get him warmed up and tucked in for a good night’s sleep.

You lead him into the washroom and set about filling the bath for washing trolls, making sure it’s not too hot for his bloodcaste, referring to the chart next to it. Putting him into shock would help nothing. The splash of water seems to be an automatic trigger for him to get undressed, pulling off the remaining rags that are filthy and sodden, and on the impulse, you dig out the donated supplies from the cupboard and pull out the dusty bottle of bubblebath. May as well make this experience enjoyable. The soft sheen of the bubbles seem to catch his attention and he reaches out to touch them, flinching as they pop and vanish, hand snapping back to his side as sweat beads on his skin. He rejects your offer of assistance and steps into the bath before sitting down with a thud, water swishing up the plastic sides of the tub and you’re left hoping that he hadn’t dented or cracked it. Otherwise that’s coming straight out your pay and that’s just enough to live on as it is.

Various supplies are scooped up including a plastic jug that you use to carefully pour water over Equius’ hair, taking the utmost care to ensure it doesn’t get in his eyes or ears. Every contact makes him flinch and so you try your hardest to be gentle, washing his hair carefully from your seat on the edge of the bath. As the grime gets slowly washed away, the water steadily turns darker with dirt, your fingers lingering for a moment on the brand on his side as your stomach twists. Why would anyone do that to anyone, even a troll. His hair is so incredibly long that it requires extra shampoo and rinsing as you carefully check for fleas, ticks or nits but he seems to be clear, following the washing with a comb. A simple nightshirt is procured for him, the old garment being another donation to the Shelter, but the material is suitable and warm if a little stained.

Once his hair is combed through and dried off, you guide him to one of the troll cages, the room being small with a pile of soft towels and rags in one corner and a sink with a plastic cup. Trolls may not be highly respected but they get carefully looked after here. You lead him in and glance down as he begins to shake, more sweat appearing at his temples. He’s probably afraid of being left here forever. You crouch and lightly touch his cheek, the tremors stopping near immediately as he quietly sighs. You smile and then gently pet his hair, smoothing it back a little from his face.

“It’s pawlright. I have to go now but I’ll be back tomorrow morning, okay?”  
“No.”  
“Equius, I need to go home. But I swear I’ll be here again straight away.”  
“…Promise?”  
“Purromise.”


	2. Nepeta ==> Be distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's going to be short, the next one should be much longer.

The lost look in the troll’s eyes haunt you for the rest of the night, earning you a light bat on the cheek from one of the bossier cats after you accidentally ignored her and you focus just in time to see the end of a fluffy tail whisking round the doorway. Mrs Fluffybutt was such a drama-queen but she was Roxy's responsibility. Your roommate has to call your name numerous times before you can haul yourself off the sofa to get dinner, socked feet sliding on the kitchen tiles. That's something else that needs to be done; vacuuming. Just another thing to be added to the list before the cat hair collects or whatever. But something about all of this puzzles you. You’ve dealt with so many trolls in the past, why is this one affecting you so badly in comparison?

You sigh and accept the plate offered by Dirk with a tired smile, slumping down on the couch again as Roxy sashays in, carrying a cloud of perfume as she comes in. Oh yeah, she'd be going to work soon. The sharp clinking of Roxy making one of her martinis is barely registered, along with the disapproving look she gets from Dirk as he settles on the futon nearby, dinner in hand. Roxy sits next to you, ruffling your messy and still slightly-damp curls while she sips on her drink, one arm thrown sloppily over the back of the sofa. She seems puzzled by your lack of response as she looks to Dirk for an answer, the Strider mouthing "rescue case" in reply which seems to answer a lot. They don't press on you too much for answers tonight.

Conversation is quiet that night and you go to your room early with barely a mumbled 'goodnight', ignorant of their worried glances to each other as Pounce weaves round your ankles till you pick her up. Only then does she chill out, getting white fur on your shirt as always while she noisily purrs. Pounce was such a good kittycat. The fur on your shirt reminds you that you need to get more lint rollers before Dirk flips his lid about the fur on his jeans again. Pounce really does moult way too much, at this time of year anyway, now being when she's gaining her fluffy winter coat.

You practically fall into bed after changing into your pyjamas with mint still fresh on your breath, squashing your face into the numerous pillows and trying to block out the thoughts until you fall asleep. Not that you sleep well.


	3. Equius ==> Wait

Today had been confusing. But you had done as Master had told you and waited and waited. Even when it had rained, you still waited there for him. Always watching for his shiny black car to come cruising round the corner, though it never did appear. Soon your stomach had begun to snarl and growl from hunger and rain came falling from the skies, the water icy cold on your skin. You’d never been allowed outside before and it frightened you although you’d never show that fear, simply hunching smaller.

Humans walked by constantly but none of them were him, some shoes creaking and some shoes tapping as their owners stalked by, pretending the troll in the gutter wasn’t there at all. To be expected really.

For so long you waited and waited, and waited some more. Until the sky began to grow dark and miserable.

That’s when she had appeared, with the quiet thump of boots and the promise of a warm place to rest for a while, a strange feeling of hope beginning to spark within you. You’d gone with her and she’d patiently washed the blood out your hair rather than turning the hose on you which Master normally did, the water pleasantly warm rather than ice cold. But gentle contact was still foreign to you so the contact of her hands on your head had caused you to flinch, despite the fact of that if you so wanted to, you could probably crush the life out of her body in one swift motion.

But you didn’t want to. And that was the strange thing.

She dressed you in soft clothing as opposed to rags which felt curious against your skin, and while you were still loyal to your master, you think you could maybe like her.

But then … she’s leaving.

You make her promise to return and the pain in your chest leaves you when she says she will, and you’re able to look around the cell. Just a sink with a cup for a water and a pile of rags, towels and cushions to sleep on, something so uncommon to you that you’re suspicious of it at first. Beds of musty straw were more familiar to you. The sink is where you go first so you can get a cup of water but your hand shakes and the plastic cup crumples between your fingers like tissue paper, water splashing onto your feet and nightshirt. It makes sweat spring out on your forehead and your muscles flex automatically, the arm seams of the shirt separating with a snap and a tear of fabric. You’re left with having to pull out a towel from the pile to mop your face with it before curling atop the fabric pile, still determined to wait.

You’d wait for as long as it took. Master would come back.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and your rest is long and peaceful, but your awakening is rather unpleasant. Because you’re greeted by a pair of cold, green eyes just outside of your cell, a green suited stranger watching every movement.


	4. Nepeta ==> Be late

Despite your promise, you’re not there as early as you’d hoped after you slept through the high-pitched screech of your alarmclock, only woken by Roxy tapping on your door at about 8. You lurch into the shower with a yawn and after you just look at yourself in the mirror, toothbrush hanging from the corner of your mouth as you peer at the shadows beneath your eyes. No time for make-up today. It takes a while to partially dry your hair due to its thickness, still being slightly damp after 10 minutes of furious blasting from the hairdryer. You dress sloppily but quickly, jogging out the house with unlaced boots as your trench coat flaps wildly, keeping none of the rain or wind out but you’ll cope.

Luckily you have wits enough for driving though you’re a little fast, engine rumbling in protest at each red light because of your impatience. The Shelter’s already open when you finally arrive and people smirk at your bedraggled state as you enter, curls all over the place. But despite your hurry, you greet Tavros, who’s at the desk today, and ruffle little Aradia’s curls as you hurry past, the maroonblood perched on the desk with pokemon cards scattered across her lap and in stacks next to her. Aradia was so sweet and seemed to love helping Tavros with his duties, gaining them the team nickname of ‘Team Charge’. You ponder this for a brief moment before ducking into the staff area so you can change into your overalls and deposit your belongings, dropping the locker key into the pocket at the front of your coveralls.

According to today’s schedule, you’re working in the troll section so you can’t catch your breath before you’re zooming off again, food bags in hand with a broom under your arm. Your boots thud against the tiled floors of the Shelter as you make your way there, having to swap buildings twice till you’ve got everything. As normal, you have to weave your way past curious visitors, the high-pitched voices of children wanting to go see the puppies and kitties in the Main Building rather than these strange grey fake-humans. You have to be particularly careful to not smack anyone today in your haste, going to see Equius first but it seems that he has a visitor there already.

A tall gentleman with skin as white as a cue ball, snowy white hair carefully combed back. There’s not even a speck of dirt on his immaculate suit and even from here, it’s obviously heavily-starched, the material barely moving when he does.

It’s unusual to find such a distinguished and elegant looking gentleman in a place like this, people like that normally buying from pedigree breeders, not from Shelters. And he’s currently staring at Equius. Something about him creeps you out, perhaps it’s how he looks at the troll as though he was evaluating him, planning. Even his gloves are perfectly white, your eyes scanning across them as you walk up, noting that there’s not even a spot on them. Creepy. You set the bags down carefully with the broom balanced against the wall as you clear your throat, the gentleman turning his attention on you. A quick look is cast into the troll’s pen and you can see the anxious perspiration on Equius’ skin as he sits on the pile, not even looking up at you. The pale-skinned man smiles frostily, the expression not meeting his bright green eyes as he turns them on you, gloved fingers tugging compulsively at his jacket sleeve, twirling the cufflinks there.

A sudden feeling of unease washes through you as you smile back, poised lightly on your toes. Visitors must always be respected and greeted properly. Your boss made sure of that.

“Hello! Can I help you with anything?”  
“Good morning, Miss. I would like to inquire about this particular troll.”  
“Oh you mean Equius? I’m sorry, he’s a new arrival. He needs to be checked furst befur he can be adopted.”  
“Then I wish to put in a reservation for when he’s available.”  
Your eyes flicker away from his to the troll, glancing back to find the gentleman leaning down towards you oh so slightly. Goddamn he’s creepy in that polite, murderous psychopathic way of his.  
“I-I’m sorry but he won’t be available fur adoption.” You can’t help the slight stutter at the beginning of your sentence, trying to avoid the man’s cold gaze.  
“And why would that be, pray tell?”  
“He’s already reserved!”  
“But you just said that he had to be checked first.”  
“Oh, um, well yes. I did say that.” It’s unusual for you to be tongue-tied but this man is rather intimidating. “But, um this an, uh, special case. Yes, it’s a special case. One of the workers is adopting him.”  
“And which worker would that be?” His voice is sharp, and it makes you feel sick but you know how to answer this one at least.  
“I’m very sorry, sir, but I can’t disclose that information. Confidentiality and all! I’m sure you understand.” It’s with relief that you watch him straighten up, white gloved hands smoothing his lapels.  
“Very well. Should a similar troll come into availability, I would like for you to contact me immediately. Thank you for your time, Miss Leijon.” He smiles again and presses a business card into your hand, and then he’s gone, polished shoes gently tapping on the tiled corridor as he disappears from sight. You’re left gaping in shock and confusion before strained breathing can be heard from the pen, turning to find the troll sweating even more, probably from the stress the conversation had carried. Your eyes drop to the card, fingers running against the thick, expensive paper as you read the name printed onto it.

**Doctor Scratch Veterinary Surgeries**  
---  
  
Well that’s something you’re going to check out before you send any trolls there. Standard checks and all, just to check out the conditions of the adopting house. No loose wires, enough space for exercise, that kind of thing. You smile at the jittery troll and crouch down, boots keeping you balanced.

“Well then Equius. I have a question fur you. Would you like to come live with me?”


	5. Nepeta ==> Call home.

This is probably the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever had to do and your heart thuds as the phoneline rings on and on, the phone pressed hard into your ear. You can’t help the pacing and your boots thump against the patio as you walk back and forth across the courtyard, the movements causing the kitty charms on your phone to jingle and swing. Through the window to the Entrance Hall, you can catch a glimpse of Aradia watching you from her perch on the front desk, pokemon cards forgotten beside her.

She’s probably confused that you haven’t come to talk about pokemon with her this break. You’ll make it up to her later.  
Eventually the phone picks up with a soft click, just before it was about to ring off and you’re met with the tired, softly-slurring voice of one Roxy Lalonde.

“Rrrrroxay Lalondey sspeakin’”  
“Hi, Roxy! How’s the hangover going?”  
“Oh hi nippie neeeppie hehehe nepple. Oh man it’s fuckin’ killin’ me, Neppersss.”  
“Well there’s purrlenty of mineral water in the mini fridge and I thiiiink there are leftofurs?”  
“Sure sure, momma cat, hehe so what’cha call about?”  
“Alright so you know I was a little bit distracted last night?”  
“Neppie, you ignored Mrs Fluffybutt and you NEEEVER ignore Mrs Fluffybutt, your distraction was through the roof, girl. But go on.” Looks like you hadn’t done a very good job of hiding your worry last night then, and it sounds like Roxy’s sobering up now which is a relief. You’re really going to need her help with Dirk.  
“Okay so I found a troll last night on my way home which is why I was late and stuff. And it’s really diffurcult, Rox, because I don’t think I’d be able to give him to someone else and just … um…”  
“You want to keep it?”  
“…Yeah.” You cough slightly to try alleviate the tightness in your throat, taken aback by Roxy’s directness. “I really, really do.”  
“Weeeell I have no problem with it, Neps, and I don’t think DirkyDoo will either so long as it doesn’t make a huge fuckin’ mess or whatevs. Do ya want me to message him about it?”  
“Oh, Roxy, I could just kiss you, thank you! It would be wonderfurl if you could, I have to get back to work.” You’re met with a soft chuckle from the other end, the precise chuckle that usually earns Roxy free drinks all night at the bar. But at the moment, it simply drains the tension out of your body and you drop down on the old bench nearby, raking a hand through your curls.  
“As much as I like the Leijon kisses, I have a better proposition, Neps. You help me with the next shipment of my wixard kitties.”  
“Hehehe deal. Thank you so much, Roxy, I’ll see you later. Byeee.”  
“Laters, Neeple.”

And with that, the line clicks to be left with a soft hum as you slump in the bench, staring up at the sky. It was going to be okay. It would all work out. Your mind is already racing to make a list of everything you need to do next and about what will happen. Equius can sleep in your room so you’ll need to make a pile for him, and he’ll need some clothes that’ll fit him since that nightshirt is already popping its seams. Then there’s the whole business of food and exercise. You’ll need to snag Tav during lunch and Aradia too so you can interrogate them about it all, but once he’s settled in then maybe you can bring him here to chat to Aradia and Tavros too.


	6. Paperwork.

It’s late afternoon when you get your lunch break since you’d overshot the timings during the conversation that morning, meaning that you’d had a lot of built-up work that you need to sort out. But now you’re having a well-needed coffee in the Staff Room with Aradia perched on your lap as you pet her wild curls. You find a few comb teeth snarled in there and carefully extract them as Aradia purrs, the maroonblooded troll occasionally pulling out another pokemon card from her deck to show you.

She’s absolutely thrashing Tavros today which is highly amusing to you and you both quietly chat about her Delcatty card, while her opponent trying is to think of the best counter-attack since his Tauros is currently on the ropes. You space out a little while you think of things you still need to do after your break, tuning in as Aradia lets out a crow of triumph, Tavros left defeated as he collects up his cards. The pet-troll on your lap slides off to claim her prize of one of his cards. She decides on the Cottonee and then settles on Tavros’ lap to gloat over the new teammate while she ponders a name for it.

Meanwhile, you look to Tav, who doesn’t seem too put out by the loss of his Cottonee and instead smiles proudly at the curly-haired maroonblood in his lap, petting her hair. The perfect picture of contentment. Which was suddenly broken by a gale-force sneeze from Tav, probably caused by the cat hairs on your shirt which would have been transferred over via Aradia. You giggle a little and continue to watch them for a while before piping up.

“Tav?”  
“Oh, uh, yeah?”  
“What’s like to have a pet-troll? To have Aradia?”  
“It’s nice I guess, yeah, I like it. She helps me a lot since the uh, accident, you know, like with getting things from high places and stuff. Good company too since cat hair makes me sneeze.”  
“Aradia, what do you think?”

The pet-troll looks up from her newest pokemon card, slotting it into the deck before beaming at you. She hadn’t this smiley when Tavros first found her, in fact, she barely responded at all. But now she’s this darling, sparky little troll who’s always smiling. Which can be a problem at times but it’s normally fine.

“I like it a lot! It doesn’t feel like I’m dying anymore! And now I’m happy and it’s going to stay that way.”  
That was a curiously morbid view on it all but Aradia seems happy enough and for a moment, you just think over their perfectness with each other. Team Charge. It turns out that Tavros has plenty of advice for you that you scribble down in the notebook from your locker, smoke practically rising from the pen.

Not too much sugar but plenty of protein and vegetables, all that kind of stuff. A lot of it is similar with children, such as regular bedtimes and a set bathtime. Routine. It takes up quite a few pages in your notebook in all and in capital letters at the bottom, you scribble ‘NO BETTY CROCKER’. Though you’re going to need to go food shopping before taking Equius home, since you’re down to the dregs of your fridge.

You go back to work with your head buzzing with everything, heading over to the Troll Section to sort out beddings and such. There’s only 4 trolls in residence at the moment, including Equius so it doesn’t take too long, and you get to spend a little time with each one. Most are nervous around humans still but these don’t waste time in clambering onto your lap. A greenblood with short, fluffy hair sits there for as long as possible, purring noisily as you brush her hair. She’s not one of the venomous ones but she does have pretty sharp teeth. You dare to give her a gentle cuddle before sliding her off your lap, trying to ignore the soft whines that tear at your heartstrings. Equius is who you visit last so you can spend plenty time with him now. He’d been mulling your offer over all day and he looked up quickly as you walked in, brushes in hand.

On appearance, he seems happy to see you and so you sit down on the cool floor of his cell, gesturing for him to sit with you. Unlike the other trolls, he sits cross-legged just in front rather than on your lap, back to you so you can brush his long hair. The length of it makes you tempted to plait it but for now, you just brush, careful to not hurt him. He’s not flinching at every touch today which is pleasant.

“Have you been thinking over my offur?”  
“…Yes.”  
“Do you have an answer to it?”  
“I would … very much like to go with you.”

Even just speaking, he’s worried that he’s done wrong, blue-tinged sweat beading up. But you simply remain quiet and instead reach forwards to gently pet his undamaged horn and while he freezes at first, he soon relaxes into your touch with a soft hum.

“Thank you, Equius. I’ll go sort out efurrything in a bit, okay? You can come with me. And then we’ll go buy you some nice clothes that fit properly. How does that sound?”  
“It sounds … nice.  
Thank you.”

The rest of the afternoon seems to pass in a blur.

First you take Equius to go see the resident vet to get him checked over before you can take him home, and ordinarily, you’d just drop off your charge and then go do other stuff. But this is different. It’s like you can’t force yourself to leave him alone in this little clinic. He sits neatly on the metal examination table having removed his nightshirt, scarred hands folded in his lap. He seems so calm that his reaction to the vet is sudden and startling.

His snarl is frightening and sends chills running over your body as the vet’s hand moves quickly to the tranquilisers but you’re already in motion towards Equius. The suddenness of your movements towards him makes the troll flinch, growl disappearing in a second but all you do is lay a gentle hand on his arm, the tremors settling. Phew. Just as well you’d stayed.  
The vet’s edgy but he moves away from the tranquilisers again to come check on Equius.

He measures Equius’ temperature, height and weight before checking his reflexes. With a curiously shaped stethoscope he then listens to the troll’s heart and lungs, the coldness of the metal bell making Equius flinch slightly, the movement making your stomach twist. But apart from his obvious scars and healed brands, he seems healthy enough though the vet also warns you to keep him calm as much as possible due to his highly-strung disposition and worrisome past.

After comes the paperwork, sheets and sheets of it that require signings and reading and various other things but you’re willing to do it. Because then Equius will have a good home. You’re just writing your signature on the final paper, finishing it with a little flourish when you pause. Equius deserves a say in this paperwork. You hand him the pen and show him how to hold it properly though he holds it so carefully that the nib wobbles, and you can hear the plastic creaking in protest. And while Equius can’t write properly, he can draw a definite line with a little squiggle at the end, his jaw gritted in concentration as your Boss smirks across the desk at him. But he can go shove a broom up his butt, at least Equius is trying his hardest. Luckily the whole process is sped up since you work here and therefore can be trusted with both the animals here and any adopted animals or trolls so that time’s cut out. Soon you’re walking together out of the office with the troll starter kit held under your arm, Equius walking beside you with your hand lightly between his shoulder blades though you have to duck into the Staff Room to collect your things.

It takes you a while to change out your overalls and then you have to fold them neatly, setting them on the little shelf at the top of your locker, pulling on your coat and hat. You’re about to shut it when you remember your notebook, swinging the door open again. As always it’s buried beneath the stuff of your locker so you crouch down and carefully paw through it, dropping the little book into the box.

You stand and turn, car keys in one hand and box under your arm, to find Equius carefully examining the computer nearby, delicately touching one of the keyboard keys with an index finger. The soft click makes his ears twitch but rather than break his quiet examination, you simply move to the door, allowing the thump of your boots to catch his attention in a subtler way. Tavros waves as you both walk through the main doors, Equius staring at Aradia as you walk by though she pays him no attention except to throw him a slight smile, busying helping Tav to do anything else. But it’s like she has him under a spell, the blueblooded troll watching her until the doors shut, quickly looking up to you after. You smile happily at him, clicking the open button on the carkeys as the lights flash.

“We just need to go get some food and stuff and then we can go home, okay?”  
“Okay.”


	7. Home again.

It’s interesting taking Equius shopping, watching his reactions to everything. He’s fine when it’s just you two in the aisle but as soon as another trolley or shopper appears the other end, it’s like someone’s flipped a switch. He practically freezes until they’ve gone past and then he returns to normal, examining the bright candies on the shelves with a childish curiosity.

You take your time in the dairy section, glancing at your notebook to check what Tavros had said. Milk was recommended apparently and a lot of the trollcare books said it was good for trolls of his caste so you get a couple litres, setting the bottles carefully into the trolley over some tortillas. It’s good that this store has a clothing section so you head over to there, encouraging Equius to look for some normal clothes while you check out pyjamas. Perhaps the purple ones with the moon? Maybe the one with the horses. You think he’d like horses. You decide to get both so that he’s always got a pair to wear, glancing up as he carefully brings some clothes to you.

Some of them are incredibly cheap and would obviously split around his arms, those with long sleeves in particular. But there’s quite a few black tank shirts in there so you hold those up against him, checking they’re about the right size. Those that are right are set into the trolley before you ask him to lead you back to the rack. Since you’ve got 2, you snag 6 more and put them in, making sure to pick up some warmer clothes while you’re there. It’s starting to get cold after all.

Luckily he’d picked out some shorts too, so you don’t have to worry so much about finding trousers that would fit his legs properly. You pick carefully through his selection, quickly putting the fuzzy, orange monstrosities that he’s picked back onto the rail nearby, silently praying that he didn’t have his heart set on them but he doesn’t seem to really mind. The other ones are fine though so they’re dropped in along with some other things, mainly sweaters and a large jacket and a few sets of underwear and socks. Plenty of those. He’s still swishing round in his tatty nightshirt as you roam the shop, the garment now missing its sleeves and looking hideous.

But he’ll have to remain like that until you both get home since you can’t dress him in the new clothes now. He doesn’t seem to care though. He’s happy enough so long as no other humans are in the same aisle as you.

It doesn’t take as long as you had predicted to get everything paid for and bagged up though your brow creases when you see the price, handing over your card to the cashier. Well that was going to leave you with nothing except for a few moths in your wallet. Equius spots your worried expression and looks anxious in return before you can smile at him, gently running your fingers through his long hair which seems to relax him.

Perhaps introducing Equius to Dirk and Roxy wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

Equius is excellent at carrying groceries as it turns out, though he is incredibly delicate after the first paper bag practically ripped in half, sending boxes of pasta and rice sliding across the floor. Thankfully you’d picked up the bag of jars so nothing gets smashed on the floor. But still, you ask for them to double bag it, dabbing at his forehead with your long sleeve to remove the sweat before smiling at him, the pair of you carrying the stuff out to the car.

You buckle him into the front seat, careful to not twist the straps and you’re about to pull out the carpark when he speaks up, voice quiet against the hum of the engine.

“Can we go to the place again?”

You’re silent for a moment even though you already know where he meant. The place that you’d found him. You nod and then you rev, driving smoothly out of the car-lot without another word, remaining quiet. The car slows so you glide past, allowing him plenty time to look out but there’s nothing different there. No new note on the post. Nothing. His face falls slightly and he sits back in his seat, looking down at his hands as he clenches his hands together, knuckles stark against the grey skin.

Fuck. You should have said no.

You press your lips together and accelerate on towards home, silently hoping that Roxy remembered to message Dirk earlier. Hopefully. Otherwise he’s going to be very confused to find a blueblooded troll sitting on the couch.

You smirk slightly at the image as you pull up to the house, parking the little car carefully before reaching over to help him unbuckle, sliding out of the car. First you unpop the trunk and then open his door, wanting it to stay on its hinges with the interior intact. He hops out carefully and then helps you with the shopping up to the door, looking up at the house with an expression of awe. At first, you’re left confused by it. The house itself is okay. Just a small building, with a dainty porch and a back yard, a garage at the side. Pretty non-descript. But then you remember that he’d have never experienced this type of home before and you gently pat his head, the troll leaning very slightly against you as you fumble with the keys, metal jingling noisily against the charms while you find the door keys.

“Welcome home, Equius.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You hold the door open for him so you catch his expression, the troll looking rather confused as he pauses on the threshold. It’s like he’s not sure that he’s supposed to be inside. You look at him carefully, arms full of groceries.

“Is something wrong?”  
“No.”  
“You’re allowed in, Eq, it’s your house too now.”

He hesitates for a moment more before stepping inside with a slight nod, careful to not bump into anything lest he knock anything over, pausing as he waits for you. In turn, you hop inside as the lights of the car flash to show it’s locked, the door swinging behind you. Setting down your bags of shopping, the coat is pulled off and set onto its own hook next to the front door, the hat following it moments later. You shake your head as the curls spring back up again in their normal fluffy spikes and tufts, Equius staring as they do. But you simply grin and pick up the bags again before heading into the kitchen with him right behind, Pounce meowing at you from her perch on the fridge, your little companion staring up at her before uttering a soft warble that makes your heart melt slightly.

Pounce mews again and then stretches, hopping down onto your shoulders as you open the fridge door, curling round the back of your neck like a fluffy stole. She purrs noisily and you smile as various foods are put away, unpacking the bag’s that are in Equius’ arms. This includes his new clothes that are carefully set on the counter so that he can change into them after another bath though you need to feed the cats first. Your mind wanders until Pounce licks your cheeks, bringing you back to reality.  
The sound of the can opener brings Mrs Fluffybutt springing into the kitchen though she pauses at the sight of the pet-troll, curling herself around his ankles with a purr. You smile at his perturbed expression and dish up the food for both Pounce and Fluffbutt, setting the cat dishes down in opposite corners so the cats don’t fight.

Very carefully, you take Equius’ hand and with the new clothes in the crook of your arm, you show him round the house with the exception of a few rooms; these namely being Dirk’s workshop and then his and Roxy’s rooms since those are their private spaces and you’re not going to intrude on that.

The bathroom is where you go last with the starter kit in hand, Equius seeming to know the drill with this now. There aren’t bubbles for this bath and it’s easier to get him tidied up so soon he’s standing on the bathmat, standing straight and proud like a champion should. His wet hair gleams and falls in an elegant sheet down his back, water still dripping from it till you carefully squeeze it with a towel.

Next is choosing clothes. Perhaps the pjs? It is getting quite late now and wouldn’t be too long till his bedtime after all. He selects the purple ones and you help him with them so they don’t get damaged, the material seeming to hang perfectly without too much slack or strain. Excellent. You brush through his hair again and towel-dry it so that his pyjamas don’t get soaked from the trapped water, his ears flicking back as the front door slams from downstairs which is probably Roxy returning from buying more wool for her wixard plushies (trademark pending). Your suspicious are confirmed as she calls up the stairs, Equius frowning slightly as you pet his hair, the troll calming at your touch which is nice. He returns your smile though his is barely there, more of a twitch of the lips than a smile. You take his hand again, being careful so that the pressure of his hand doesn’t break all the bones in yours, and then call back to Roxy.

“We’re upstairs, Rox! Dirk’s not back yet though.”  
“Yeah Dirkydoops said he was gonna be workin’ late today. Do I get to meet this Equius then today?”  
“Of pawse! We’ll be down in a minute okay?”  
“Alright Neeps, I’ll go get food started and stuff.”

Her voice fades away as she goes into the kitchen, hopefully not inebriated. She had the tendency to improvise with foods after a few drinks and you’re still haunted by the chicken and banana curry she once made, the very memory of it bringing the burn of acid to your throat.

That had been horrific.

You look back to Equius with a slight grin, crouching down so that you’re able to talk properly.

“Are you okay with meeting Roxy and Dirk? They’re the people I live with here and they’re very nice I purromise. They’ll like you a lot I’m sure of it.”  
“Really?”  
“Of pawse.”  
“Okay. I’ll meet them.”  
“Thank you.”


	8. Introductions.

Even though he seems fine with it, it still takes a while for him to move towards the stairs so you decide to delay for a bit. You can get his pile sorted. You take him to the laundry closet and pick out the holey towels and sheets that won’t be missed, passing them to him when you have to tilt on your tiptoes to dig deep into the stacks. Once he’s got a sizeable pile, you lead him to your room, holding the door open to him.

Your room is airy and colourful, with animal plushes scattered all over your bed and a huge amount of pillows too. A flowery throw goes over the end of the bed and there’s a bunch of cat teddies propped against your pillow, fairy lights on one of the walls. Might be best to use those rather than the bright overhead lights since troll eyes are sensitive to light. But it’s also pretty tidy, exception of the plushies that have tumbled off the bed to sprawl on the floor. You move over to the window seat and pull off the cushions so you can lift the seat, pulling out some of the pillows in there. These you’ll use as the base for Equius’ bed, so that it’ll be perfect and comfy for him. Though apparently trolls are fine with whatever, including metal scraps but you’re more interested in it being nice and comfortable for him. He assists you with constructing the pile at the end of your bed, the pillows being set as the soft foundation. The sheets and towels are then put on top of that, creating the most luxurious pile. But he’ll be able to change it to suit his tastes, adding more things and taking away it’s up to him. Equius makes a quiet rumbling sound that you assume to be from contentment and you lean down, gently touching his cheek. He nods slightly to show that he’s okay and so you take his hand again, feeling the scars against your softer, more delicate skin as you guide him downstairs. Even from the hallway you can hear Roxy humming tunelessly to herself in the kitchen accompanied by the yowling of Mrs Fluffybutt and the clank of pans like a strange orchestral percussion group. The noises make Equius jump and his ears twitch back but he seems soothed by how calm you are, barely faltering when he sees her.

Roxy’s at the cooker stirring a huge pan of god knows what, glancing round with a grin as you both shuffle into the room before leaning over to the radio, switching it off with a click. You take the opportunity to glance into the pan as she wipes her hands on a teatowel, Pounce poking at your arms with her claws till you pick her up. She settles in the crook of your arm with a purr and already you can see the tangles of fur in her fluffy mane, reminding you that you need to brush her later. Maybe she’ll moult less. You blink back into focus as Roxy approaches and crouches in front of Equius, not wanting to tower over him during their introduction.

==> Be Roxy.

Just as well you hadn’t drunk today, since you want to make the best impression on this skittish blueblood. And also, you don’t know if his old owner had been a drunkard or not since Nepeta hadn’t said.

His scars make you feel sick and he’s got some badly broken teeth, giving him the impression of a grumpy shark and the shadows beneath his eyes are so incredibly dark. He can’t have slept properly for so long. Maybe those will go now that he’s here. And that is a damn lot of scars on his face and arms, his nose slightly crooked from obvious breaks. Your brows pull together slightly and then you flash him your brightest smile, hands on your knees. The paint on your short nails is becoming chipped so you’ll need to paint them again later, before your shift starts tonight.

“Hi, I’m Roxy Lalonde, hacker and gamer extraordinaire. What’s your name?”

The troll remains silent and looks up at Nepeta instead, as though for confirmation that he should answer. He looks back again to you after, a little less nervous than before.

“Equius Zahhak. Fighter and champion.”

His chest is puffed up with pride though you can hear the seams in his shirt straining to hold together, and his eyes flicker down as Mrs Fluffybutt jumps onto your legs, leaning against your chest with a loud meow. She hated it when other people got more attention than her. You grin and run your fingers through her fur with an air of fondness.

“And this is Mrs Fluffybutt, named for her extreme fluffiness. She’s a very bossy cat, I hope you’re okay with that?”

There’s another pause and then a nod, Equius holding out a scarred hand to the cat so she can smell it. She takes her time and then leans forward with sniff delicately at him, touching his skin with her nose before lick him with a rasping tongue. He chirps softly at her, the sound barely audible. You smile and then set Mrs Fluffybutt down again so that you can stir the sauce rather than it burning to the pan, the cat arching against his legs with a purr.

==> Be Nepeta 2 hours later.

2 hours later and you’re all stretched out in front of the TV, empty plates on the coffee table with only sauce left. Equius had been sitting at the opposite end of the sofa but he was slowly scooting along closer to you, Pounce in your lap as you groom her. Soon he’s leaning against you with a quiet purr, settling further as you lightly pet his hair. Just as well it’s Friday so he has all of the weekend to settle in properly and to get used to the house and its occupants. He’s already pretty chilled around Roxy and the cats, though he’s yet to meet Dirk who’s going to be back late today. Probably went to go see his brothers to have dinner with them which means that he’s going to come back smelling like other pet-trolls. Hopefully that won’t put Equius on edge.

Soon the little blueblood next to you if becoming tired and it’s obvious so you lightly touch his arm, standing up as he slides off the sofa too. He’s already in his pjs which is useful so all you need to do is tuck him into his pile with the a blanket over him, the fairy lights switched on so that it’s not too dark for him. You close the door quietly and slope downstairs again to clean up the plates, Roxy following after you with a grin.

“Omg Neppie he’s so cute but hoooly shit those are a lot of scars. What the shit happened to him?”  
“I have no idea except fur him being a fighter. Purresumably he was purrt of one of the big fighting rings and he was abandoned fur some reason. He’d been told to wait by his Master and I guess that’s what he did.”

You frown at the soapy plate in your hand, swirling the scrubby sponge around its surface.

“I think he’d have stayed there if I hadn’t picked him up.”  
“Dang, girl. Y’know what, I think it’s great that you found him. Hey! You’ll be able to introduce him to Kakat and Sollux next time we go to the smokin’ hot Strider household.”  
“Yeah that would be a good idea but maybe once he’s propurrly settled in. He seems to like Aradia already and he only saw her fur a moment!”  
“Oh man that’s cute. Aradia’s the little curly cutie, right?”  
“That’s her! She’s so adorable. Equius couldn’t take his eyes off her when we were leaving.”

Roxy laughs and moves away with the freshly cleaned and dried plates to put them into the cupboard and you begin to scrape out the pan to put the leftovers into a bowl, thinking hard all the while.


	9. Nepeta ==> Panic.

Saturday passes without incident, the exception of a few cracked plates for which you apologise profusely, promising to buy new ones when you get your next cheque. But it’s Equius’ reactions to breaking something that had hurt most.

He’d flinched away from you with a horrified expression and a soft whimper that made it feel like someone had stabbed you, the little troll backing away and apologising again and again. He had only calmed down after you’d sat with him a long time and assured him that he hadn’t done a bad thing. It had been an accident. He’d scooted into your lap eventually once he was sure that he wasn’t in trouble, allowing you to dab the moisture from his forehead with a tea towel.

But other than that, it was fine. Until Sunday.

You sleep in late that morning, as per your usual routine until you’re roused by the ringtone on your phone, sitting up as it begins to buzz against your nightstand. You sit up quickly and snag it off, seeing on the caller ID that it’s your mom calling. Momma Leijon wasn’t particularly patient so you click the accept button and slip out of bed, not wanting to wake up Equius who’s still asleep in his pile. Mom always asked a lot of questions whenever she was on the phone, something you didn’t mind but it was always the same. Are you eating properly, are you drinking enough water, are you exercising, Nepeta, you don’t want to get all out of shape, any boyfriends yet? You answer patiently enough though, assuring her that you’re eating and drinking properly with plenty exercise and no, no boyfriends yet. You can hear your stepdad in the background, bustling round as usual and adding in his own questions occasionally. For a stepdad he’s actually pretty cool. He’s not one for intruding in your business and as far as you remember, he has never lost his temper. The only problem is his weird nickname of ‘Signless’. You’ve never been able to understand that, it’s probably just a college name or something. In the end, you pull out your heavily decorated laptop so you can do a video call with them, a few stickers peeling off the lid when you pick it up. You can stick them on again later. It’s an hour or so later that the call ends and by then, you’re wrapped up snugly on the couch with your laptop so you just decide to stay there and watch some Adventure Time episodes for a while. 

Dirk and Roxy get up at about 1pm though only Roxy comes downstairs, the quiet hum of the shower being Dirk having one of his legendary Strider showers. Maybe he won’t use all the hot water this time. This is one of Roxy’s days off since the club’s closed from Sunday to Wednesday so she’s remained in pyjama mode, still with eyeliner smudge around her eyes. She yawns as she wanders past to get herself a Bloody Mary, the tomato scent reaching you from the kitchen which makes your nose wrinkle. But it also reminds you that you and a particular pet-troll both need sustenance and you haven’t seen Equius yet today so you head upstairs, hopping up each step. The lump in the pile remains so you bustle around making your bed, putting the cat plushies back on your bed along with the flower throw, allowing him plenty of time to wake up before you open the curtains, flooding the room with light. Good, it’s sunny today, something you hadn’t noticed till now.

Equius doesn’t seem to have moved or woken up so you crouch down next to the pile, giving it a cautious poke. But something doesn’t seem right. It’s too soft. There’s no solidity of a sleeping pet-troll in there. You pull off the blanket to be met with an empty pile, your heart seeming to thud against your ribs. Your head spins as you stand up and you’re consumed with a feeling of horror and already you’re moving towards the drawers, swiping the keys out of their usual bowl, already moving out of the room like a blur, nearly falling down the stairs in your haste. The boots take a frustratingly long time to put on since your shaking fingers can’t tie the laces properly as you explain what happened to Roxy at the speed of light, the Lalonde promising to tell Dirk as soon as he’s out the shower, running up the stairs.

The door slams as you jump down the porch stairs, heavy boots thudding at every step. The car’s engine whines as you rev it too fast, accelerating down the road. You need to find him. And quickly. He’s an easy target for manipulation because of his loyalty and strength and you’re not going to let him get taken back to a fighting ring. You cruise round as you search for him, praying that you find him first.


	10. Equius ==> Run.

As it turns out, pyjamas are pretty inconvenient to run in. Soon the ends of your pants are frayed and filthy from when you’d run over the muddy grass, the dirt coating the soles of your feet. But you’re going to go back. You’ll find Master.

He won’t still be angry, will he?

He’s done this kind of thing before when he’d put you in isolation for a few days. No food, no company and bright, harsh lights that had hurt your eyes because they were never switched off. But that had all been so normal that you’d never questioned it but now you’ve been given a view into what normal life is really like. With Nepeta. She didn’t hurt you or starve you when you’d broken those plates: instead she’d sat with you until calmed and said that it was okay. It hadn’t been your fault.

Perhaps … you should go back?

Your footsteps falter for a moment as you consider the options, but you continue running. Running back to where he’d left you. The directions are confusing and you get lost a few times before you reach the place, going to the note on the post.  
The ink’s run onto the paper from all the recent rain, making it near illegible and it’s clearly been in a puddle too from how wrinkled it is. A footprint has torn one of the corners and you lightly touch it with your fingertips, hand shaking slightly. You sniff at it to see if there’s any trace of your Master’s scent.

There’s nothing.

Your thick brows pull together in a frown, feeling confused. Surely he’d be back by now? He said he’d come back.  
Maybe you just have to wait longer!

And so you do. You sit yourself down next to the post, arms wrapped round your legs though it makes the arm seams of your shirt creak, the sound making your ears twitch. That was going to upset Nepeta.

That gets to you for some reason despite the fact that Nepeta won’t find you again since Master will be here soon. Of course he will. For the next few hours you sit there, barely moving though you’re just getting colder and colder as time goes on, staring blankly at the pavement in front of your large feet. Wouldn’t be long now.

The slamming of a car door makes your ears twitch round but you don’t look up, remembering that you weren’t supposed to look at Master’s face. That got you in trouble. But the shoes that come into your eyeline are wrong. Master never had boots. Particularly pale green ones with cats hand-painted on the toes. Nepeta. You look up, feeling suddenly hollow. She crouches down in front of you but doesn’t reach out, allowing you to say what’s needed to be said.

“He’s not coming back is he.”  
“…No. I’m sorry, Equius.”

Your eyes hit the pavement again and you bow your head, forehead resting briefly on your knees before you stand up.  
No more waiting.

She walks back to her little car and you follow her and while she doesn’t speak still, Nepeta gently touches your cheek before turning her attention back to driving. As unfamiliar that type of contact is, you decide that you like it and relax into the carseat, feeling that curious feeling of calmness gently washing through you. Even if Master came back, you know that Nepeta would look after you. She’d never let you go back there without a fight.

And the thought of that makes you happy.

No-one had ever been there for you before. And now you have her.


	11. Drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter but the next one's gonna be longer.

The downcast troll curled up in the front seat makes your heart hurt and you just want to stop driving for a bit so you can pull yourself together but you’ve no time for that. You need to get a message to Roxy and Dirk. As the lights turn red for your lane, you shift your hips to pull out the phone from the front pocket, charms jingling. You scan through the contacts and select Roxy’s name, tucking the phone against your shoulder and ear as the lights turn amber, hands back to the steering wheel. Roxy picks up on the second ring.

“Neps?”  
“Roxy, I found him. We’re on our way back now. Can you contact Dirk and say that he can stop searching?”  
“Yeah, sure. I’ll do that now.”  
“Thanks, Rox.”

Lifting one hand from the wheel you quickly hang up, setting the phone in your lap as you drive back to the quiet suburbs in which you live. Just as well this had happened today rather than tomorrow. The brakes squeak as you stop in front of the house and you make a note on your phone to ask Dirk about that next time you see him outside of his workshop, taking Equius’ hand as you both walk up the path. 

Both Roxy and Dirk are absent at the moment, presumably on their ways back now that Equius has been found so you take it upon yourself to make lunch as an apology.

Thankfully for your nerves, the rest of the day goes without incident.

But tomorrow will be the first day you take Equius with you to work without him being a resident there, and that’s going to be bad. You go to bed early today.


	12. Nepeta and Equius ==> Go to work.

List of incidents:  
• 3 broken glasses  
• 1 broken broom  
• 1 overturned bucket of dirty water  
• 2 damaged pokemon cards  
• A detached doorhandle  
• A dented locker door

Consequences of said incidents:  
• 1 very nervous troll  
• 5 bandaids used  
• And one very irked Boss

And it’s barely noon yet.

By the time it's lunch, Equius is shaking and nervous as he sits hunched in his chair, colourful plasters wrapped round some of his fingers following the small cuts of broken glass and broom splinters. He’s not in Aradia’s good books either after she handed him 2 of her pokemon cards to look at, only to have them returned in a far damper state than when they’d been given. It didn’t help that being in her presence had made him sweat profusely with every sentence being strained and stuttering. And so he’d used to closest things to hand, which happened to be the cards.

Now when you both walk into the staff room or past Aradia’s post on the front desk, she hides the cards in her lap as though to make sure he wouldn’t do it again. Equius continues to be transfixed by her.

You’re just mopping up the mess from accident number 3 when your boss comes round the corner, requesting you both go to his office as soon as you’re done. Oh god. Your stomach twists but you nod, glancing at Equius who’s got a sponge clutched in his hand as he washes the floor, shoulders hunched.

This wasn’t going to be good.

Your suspicions are confirmed as you go in, irritation in every line of his grim, grey face. Equius sits carefully in order to not make it worse, for which you’re grateful but it may be too late. Your boss frowns and shuffles some papers on his desk, tapping the edges into perfect corners together.

“Miss Leijon. It has come to my attention that we’ve been having some issues today with regards to your pet.”  
“Oh, er, yes but he’s really nervous you see and-“  
“I don’t care and I don’t want to know. All I care about is that all these broken objects will need to be replaced and that will cost money. You know I hate it when unnecessary things cost too much money.”  
“Yes, I know, Sir, but-“  
“I do not want to hear it, Miss Leijon, unless it’s you saying that you’ll be paying for all of these repairs. It will be taken out of your pay, as small as it is already.”  
“….”  
“And finally, you will not be allowed to bring your pet into work again. He causes far too much trouble and damage for him to remain here during working hours. I don’t want to hear complaints from customers! Do you understand me?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Good. You’re dismissed for the day and now just get that thing out of my building before it makes even more mess.”

Your knuckles turn white as you clasp your hands tightly together, jaw gritted as you nod and stand up, stalking out of the room with Equius right behind you. How DARE he call Equius a thing. It’s enough to make your blood boil. He didn’t care about anything but money and you think the only reason he does this is the prospect of the donations. And more specifically, the cut he takes from each of them.

It makes you feel sick but you need this job. You really, really need this job.

You slam the locker door shut which makes Equius flinch and you just stop for a minute, leaning forwards with your forehead against the metal. You need to be calm for him. Calm and stable. He has to be able to rely upon you.

A few deep breaths are pulled into your lungs as you count to 10, kneeling down in front of Equius before hugging him. It wasn’t his fault that your boss was a jerk. There’s a pause as he stands still before hugging you back and though he’s careful, you can feel your ribs creaking in protest.

Once you get home, you simply drop onto the sofa with your palms pressed against your eyes, trying desperately to think.  
What the FUCK are you going to do now.


End file.
